Land of Confusion, p.5
"What? What is that look?" Revyn asked Manolas.
The Telvanni dropped his gaze, smiling faintly. Since stepping of the Northern Maiden from Solstheim, and this being his first time outside Morrowind, he'd jumped head first into the chaos that had engulfed Eastmarch the past half year and coming to head this month in a grand coronation. Revyn valued his steady, unflappable help. Adassa in Whiterun was his right hand and senior among his wife's stewards, but everyone knew her as the Dragonborn's steward, and there would be no good explanation of why she would be in Windhelm assisting Revyn. Helsette's other stewards were needed elsewhere — Jordis of Proudspire was now assisting Stormblade Hrafnhildr and training them how to bodyguard a socially active target, which actually required more skill than guarding a supply dump or a moving wagon; Valdimar of Tel Windstad was on assignment somewhere in Cyrodiil; Argis of Vlindrel Hall was keeping an eye on Thalmor activities in the Reach; and Gregor of Heljarchen Estate was overtly doing business as usual, but he was also assisting guarding the land around the Tower of Mzark and the secret Dwemer guests delving into Mzark's libraries. There was also Vindni, who had been Manolas's competitor for the Severin Manor stewardship, but Vindni had his own key position as the business manager at Tel Windstad. And, with both Valdimar and Jordis away, he and his wife were also carrying the stewards' duties for both Proudspire and Tel Windstad.
The greatest advantage Manolas had over all the others was his decades of bank security operations. Guarding financial transactions and transfers of wealth against robbers, embezzlers, and fraud schemes, was his specialty.
"Just an odd little thought, serjo," Manolas answered. "I was thinking that once House Mora is acknowledged, and you forswear House Hlaalu to pledge to House Mora, you should really settle the matter of house membership with Master Neloth. You've gone from a nobody to nobility, and you can't afford to let him abscond with your lady. I understand the convenience of multiple houses, but being a member of multiple houses is not like being a member of multiple guilds or an honorary thane of multiple holds. Once you became nobility, the questions of loyalty and bloodline purity can no longer be ignored. While it is clear this new House Mora is founded by mixed races, bloodline identity is still a sticking point to the majority of Morrowind. Ashlander tribes conveniently forget it was the Daedra themselves who organized the first houses. In the matter of the mage-lord, he may challenge you that your child belongs to his house line as he claims to have adopted your wife as his heir."
"My wife never agreed to that. Not even to being inducted into Telvanni."
"She didn't object when he told her."
"She didn't want to be fried by an ill-tempered master wizard by demanding payment in gold."
"Neither does anyone else and so no one objected when he declared her his bloodline heir. He is unmarried, and there are no strong candidates among his many cousins. Not that their kinship would matter as none of them have yet excelled by their own merits to great power. And, as all know, only power determines one's rank among the Telvanni."
Revyn shook his head, saying, "But, then, my wife falls short in that measure of power. She is archimage more from brute physical force, luck, and outside election by the Psijic Order of Arteum than any great and overwhelming magical talent or knowledge. Well, she is an expert enchanter but apprentice or adept in the other disciplines. Having the Dragonborn as the Archimage of the College is a tremendous political and social advantage, something the College desperately needed. But back to Neloth, he adopted Helsette Faro, a spellsword, not Antonio Felix the Dragonborn. No one should take as serious his whim to adopt a mere spellsword."
Manolas shrugged. "Master Neloth shows no signs of senility, and he is not one to be cozened by a beautiful face. And to us, the titles of 'Archimage of Winterhold' and 'Dragonborn' are neither significant nor advantageous. Anyone in the House knows his adherence to tradition and the core values of the House. They will know he knows there is something more to her beyond specious connections to the past Hlaalu kings or the current Mede emperors. He is not indifferent to his duty to House Telvanni to improve our overall House strength and standing. New blood must sometimes be brought in, and he's chosen an outlander to renew his personal line. He's chosen Azura's Champion, who is not to be lightly dismissed. His family will want to see what he sees and why he believes she is worthy. Still …" he caught and held Revyn's gaze, "… if not the first child, perhaps the second. I suspect you do not know how much he respects you. Naturally, the child's future mate will be arranged with the most promising child of the standing bloodline."
Revyn dropped his head in his hands. "No, no, no, no," he moaned. "Ancestors guide me."
"I regret having to bring that up, serjo, but the matter becomes more pressing the closer House Mora gains momentum. As I have kept you informed, I continue to receive messages from his relatives for our lady to present herself to them. It is only a matter of time when the senior house members will travel to Skyrim since she will not come to them."
"I don't have time to deal with this." Revyn cringed as he imagined Neloth's kinfolk descending like a slaughter of cliffracers.
"Then may I make a suggestion?"
"Suggest away, Manolas."
"Tel Windstad. You have a sufficiently large colony there of Telvanni. If Neloth's kin do come to Skyrim, make them come to you there. You do not want their first impression to be Windhelm."
"But Tel Windstad is half a continent away. That would be —"
"Incredibly arrogant of you to make them come onto your territory and to your tower to give you their judgment."
"Ah, I see.
X—X—X—X—X—X—X
Fort Kastav's renovation was done, and the road between it and Windhelm had been widened and fully paved. This was where the jarls that remained with the Empire would stay with their personal guards and servants and their Legion escort. A horse or carriage could make the trip between the two points in less than four hours over the new road.
Once the door closed and Revyn's bodyguards and the general's aides were gone, Elder Council Marcia Tullia embraced him and kissed his cheeks. Behind her, her father, General Tullius, scowled disapprovingly. "We're so happy you've fitted us into your schedule, dearest Revyn," she declared.
"Count on it, my lady." She let him go so that he could face General Tullius and greet him with a slight bow. "I trust you are in good health, sera."
The man snorted. "I'm still working if nothing else. I hear you've been busier than usual in all this chaos. King-making, clan-building, city-founding — I'm surprised you have time to start a family."
"You're a fine one to talk, father."
Revyn sighed. "Actually, trying to start a family came first. All these other matters just got in the way."
"Hard to start a family when your partner just won't stay in one place long enough," said Marcia sympathetically. "Perils of marrying heroes. Gods know mother complained enough." She grinned at her father who snorted again.
"Hard to play the family man when you've got invaders burning down your home," he retorted. He eyed Revyn. "I still find it a surprise you aren't going to be heading the new house," said Tullius.
"Too many conflicts of interest. Remember, I'm sworn to Ulfric's service, which is why I'm here instead of sitting with my lady and anxiously awaiting my firstborn's imminent arrival."
"Yes. Duty." Tullius inserted two fingers under the neckline of his armor chest piece and pulled out a sealed envelope, which he extended to Revyn. "From Inanna. Her duty keeps her at the Elsewyr border because of increased Thalmor activities there and in Valenwood. Spies have reported Thalmor command has suddenly been investigating the abandoned teleport platforms in Summerset and their subordinate countries. They seem to think someone or something is trying to reactivate the old network, and their robes are all in a twist that someone else will do it before they can.
"If things are happening in Mistwatch, then be more careful," Tullius said bluntly. "Station teleport maps from the Third Era still exist in the Imperial Archives. And if I can find those there, I'm sure the Dominion have their own. And since we all know Dunmer mage-lords openly defied Imperial decrees forbidding teleportation and levitation, a mage-lord rebuilding the teleport platform in the Rift is about as subtle as the Greybeards shouting for the Dragonborn."
"On that note," said Marcia as she hooked her arms around Revyn's right and her father's left, "let's go to lunch and talk about Ulfric's coronation with the jarls he'd been trying to browbeat or overthrow. Bygones must be bygones, and we need to be told when put on our happy play masks.
"And, by the way," said Marcia, "your argument against being the new house head is invalid. To build Aldmora in Eastmarch, the House Mora will have to swear loyalty to the Stormcloak Alliance, much like the Count of Cheydinhal has to swear loyalty to the Emperor over Morrowind."
"And the son of one of the founding lines is going to be the next emperor," grumbled Tullius.
"Yes," said Revyn. "Let me retract my earlier statement. I'm not going to be the housefather because I don't want it. I don't even want to be the kinlord of Clan Sadri. My oath to Ulfric is just a convenient excuse." He looked away from their wry, pitying smiles.
"The Nerevarine is a brilliant tactical move," said Tullius. "The symbolic timing, the return of a legend and a strange house that Nerevar was originally born to. And when it inevitably becomes known the true face and name of the Dragonborn … You do like surprising people, Revyn."
"Oh, please, I am not responsible for all this."
Lunch was in the the mess hall of Fort Kastav. Outside the mess hall, the housecarls of the jarls faced off against Revyn's stormcloak protectors. Jordis, sitting with her feet up on a comfy chair in Ambarys's quarters in the Cornerclub, was today's whispering voice telling the stormcloaks how to behave and work around the touchy housecarls.
Today, Revyn had brought Yannig and Olaf with him. Yannig immediately went to greet the Jarl of Morthal, then she clasped hands with her cousin, the true Yannig, still in his disguise as Idgrod the Younger. Not far from them, Jarl Elisif smiled stiffly. Revyn sighed and headed towards her. Marcia was quickly beside him.
He bowed deeply to her. "Jarl Elisif."
"Lord Revyn. How is our thane doing?"
"False labor last week. She is due any day now."
"We miss her in court. Her stories are always so thrilling," Jarl Elisif said, smiling faintly. She glanced between the true Idgrod the Younger and the false one. "So many interesting stories."
"None meant in malice, you understand," Revyn said earnestly.
"So it has been explained to me." The jarl glanced at Marcia. "And perhaps I will have opportunity to visit with my thane and enjoy more of her stories."
"I'd like that myself," said Jarl Balgruuf, stepping into the conversation. He had Frothar, his heir, with him. Revyn estimated his age around 16 or 17 and more than old enough to learn how to conduct himself in international political affairs. He made sure to introduce Olaf to him. Olaf had worked as a professional mercenary since he was 15. He was 25 now, but he should be able to relate to the energetic youngster with dreams of battle and great deeds.
Jarl Idgrod also stepped in to converse. "Visiting with our thane will have to wait until after next week. She'll feel better then." She looked at Revyn. "And you may want to take an early leave after lunch. I'm sure your apprentices know the coronations schedules as well as you do, so leaving them behind will be fine."
"Are you telling me it's now?" asked Revyn, automatically reaching to clasp her hands. Yannig and Idgrod the Younger squealed happily. Balgruuf laughed heartily and thumped his back, almost sending Revyn crashing into the elderly jarl if not for Olaf's swift, strong-armed intervention.
"After lunch, she said. Late afternoon you think?" asked Marcia. Idgrod nodded. Marcia grinned at Revyn. "Plenty of time then. But for now, attend to your duties today as midwife to the birth of the Stormcloak Alliance." There were a few chuckles from their audience.
"I am not a midwife," Revyn retorted. "I am, or was, a shopkeeper. I sold used goods, and I always tried to make good deals."
"The Alliance, the repackaged holds of the Old Kingdom," quipped Balgruuf. "Yes, you sold that to the Emperor. We truly hope it is a good deal."
"A civil war was bankrupting all of us," said Idgrod. "Tempers were too hot. A little separation, a little forgetting, and then hope that our children will eventually see the sense of reconciliation. But, for now, we need to conserve our purses and make do with what we have."
Lunch was set out and the jarls could sit or wander about as they pleased. Revyn talked about the schedule for the coronation day. But as soon as Jarl Idgrod clasped his shoulder and told him it was time to go, he ran out the room without another word.
Related stories: #13 Solstheim Stewardship, #71 Forbidden Legends, #77 Paradigm Shift
Chillingbear: Hope it's a good silly.
RegiDelta: (1) I wouldn't know. I have very little cultural reference/context. (2) More like section start at different points in time. And only one instance of time travel.
Ted Hsu: Like any credit card company, it's up to you to prove your card was stolen. They really don't care about identity theft because they have you in hand, so they're not going to beat around the bush for an unseen 2nd bird.